


Somewhere Between Dreams and Reality

by nekosmuse_archive (nekosmuse)



Category: Third Watch
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23580691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekosmuse/pseuds/nekosmuse_archive
Summary: Written pre 2005. Posting for archival purposes.Bosco's trapped somewhere between dreams and reality.
Relationships: Maurice Boscorelli/Faith Yokas





	Somewhere Between Dreams and Reality

Encounter 1:

The room is dark. For a moment I consider turning on a light but alcohol has dulled my fear and I leave it off. Nothing is the way it should be. And it’s all my fault.

She came to me, gave me a chance. Told me she would forgive me, forgive me for everything I’d done. Told me we could go back to being partners, back to being friends. All I had to do was embrace that opportunity. I didn’t. I didn’t realize it but I was ensnared. Cruz had dug her claws into my flesh and branded me as her own. I was no longer my own man, no longer capable of accepting Faith’s ‘chance.’

So we drifted apart. I saw less and less of her, until the days had blended into weeks, weeks into months. Anti crime was my home. I was collared as sure as any dog. Locked tight to a loyalty I didn’t want, didn’t need. Cruz pulled my strings, made me dance, and fucked me.

I remember it so clearly. I’d forgotten what Faith looked like. I knew, but the details were gone. But I was aware that I didn’t remember. It should’ve bothered me, but it didn’t, besides, Cruz had crocked her finger, I had to go to her. She dressed me up in her anti-crime clothes, my badge, like a lead weight around my neck. She even used it to pull me out to the car.

I’m not sure where we were going. I never knew, Cruz never thought to tell me, and I never bothered to ask. That was the way of it, don’t question, she’s you superior, at work, in bed, and all the small irrelevant times in between.

I thought I’d be upset when she died. Thought I’d feel some pain. Nothing. I watched her fall, watched the blood pour from her wounds, and then watched her die. She reached out to me, but I didn’t move. Never once did I kneel beside her, I just stood over her and let her go. The only thoughts running through my head were of Faith.

I saw her in the hall, once I’d returned to the station. She didn't spared a single glance for me. Everyone else stared but my eyes ignored them, intent only on Faith’s retreating form.

I caught up with her in the locker rooms. She was changing. She looked different, tired, worn, older somehow. I realized I didn’t know anything ‘bout what was happening in her life. I’d never bothered to ask.

“Faith?” Even now my voice sounds hollow, broken.

She doesn’t answer.

“Faith? Please, I need…”

I don’t know what I need. To make amends, someone to talk to, her friendship, her love.

“She’s dead Faith. I watched, I coulda saved her, I didn’t. You were right, Faith? Please, I’m sorry.”

“Guess you shoulda thought ‘bout that sooner.”

I never expected the harshness in her voice. I’d assumed she’d always be there. She’d always be –my- Faith.

I watched her leave, and I didn’t stop her. I waited until she was gone before changing and heading home, alone.

That brings me to where I am now. Sitting, alone in the dark, on my 6th beer of the evening. I’m running low, considering maybe breaking into the hard stuff. I know this isn’t a solution, but just tonight I want to forget.

I’m halfway to the kitchen when I hear it. It’s faint, uncertain. If I hadn’t have been in the room, I woulda missed it.

The doors not locked but I make a show of unlocking it anyway. I’m not sure who the hell comes calling at 3 in the morning, but I don’t want them to know I don’t lock my door.

To say I’m surprised is an understatement. To say I’m shocked doesn’t even begin to describe the emotions running through me.

She looks awful. Her eyes are red, tear tracks still marring her perfect cheeks. Her hair’s tasseled, and she’s stilling wearing the same clothes from earlier.

“Faith? What, um, sorry, come in,” I finally manage to stammer out.

She glides past me, heading straight for the living room. I notice the small frown she gives the bottles literally covering my coffee table. Other then that, she doesn’t acknowledge them.

I wait for her to sit before joining her on the couch. There was a time when Faith’s presence calmed me, now my stomach is tight with nerves. I can’t imagine why she’s here.

“Faith…”

“Stop. Just let me talk okay?”

I nod, she wants to talk, who am I to stop her.

“Bosco, I am –so- mad at you. You can’t even imagine how pissed I am right now. You hurt me. You lied, you screwed me over, you took that dead bitches side over mine, and not once have you even tried to fix this.”

She pauses, taking a deep breath and wiping away fresh tears. I want so bad to speak, fall on my knees and beg her forgiveness, but she has the floor, I won’t take that from her.

“You don’t even care what’s going on with me. But you expect I’ll be there for you whenever things get bad. So your whore girlfriend died Bosco, you expect me to feel bad? You expect me to take you in my arms and comfort you? Where were you huh? Where were you when Fred died? Where were you when –I- needed you? You were in that sluts bed, that’s where!”

She’s shouting now, words jumbled together, she’s almost incoherent. Wait, what was that about Fred?

“What? Fred died?”

Okay, I probably shouldn’t have said that. I probably shoulda just pretended I knew. I search my brain for some recollection, Faith taking time off work. Faith crying. None of it comes through, was I really that far gone?

“Jesus Bosco, you don’t even know. See, this is what I mean. Fred died 2 months ago. You didn’t notice the month I wasn’t at work? No, of course not, you were too busy in anti-crime.”

Suddenly it all comes crashing down around me. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve become. I hurt Faith, I abandoned Faith, and I broke every promise I ever made to her.

“Faith, I don’t know what to say. Sorry just isn’t enough. I’ve been, God, I don’t even know. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect, I’m not sure what, oh Faith, please, I can’t lose you, not over this. Not over anything.”

I’m in tears at this point. I don’t try to hide them, I don’t care if she sees, if she thinks I’m weak. I just want my Faith back.

“I’m so sorry, oh God. I’m so sorry, please.”

I collapse in her arms, my tears soaking her shirt. I clutch at her, like I’m afraid she’ll disappear. I can’t lose her. Oh god, what if I lose her.

Slowly she wraps her arms around me. The sensation is almost blissful.

“Oh Bosco, what am I gonna do with you?”

I have to laugh at that, she sounds so much like the old Faith, my partner Faith.

Leaning back, I smile up at her. She rewards me with a small smile of her own. I move back so that I’m sitting next to her. Not giving her the opportunity to protest, I pull her into my arms, holding her tight against me. I’m stunned when she lets me.

“I’m so sorry about Fred, are you okay?”

“Don’t be. Bastard deserved to die.”

Her admission shocks me and I turn to look her in the eye. Hurt and anger flash within their depths.

“He had another heart attack. I guess ‘Cindy’ was a little to ‘wild’ for his health, he couldn’t really keep up,” she explains, her words bitter.

“What? I didn’t know you’d broken up? When, how?”

“We hadn’t. He died in my bed, with his little mistress. Emily found them.”

Anger courses through me. That SOB. How could, how could any man cheat on Faith? Didn’t he realize what he had?

“He never deserved you Faith. I’m not sure anyone does.”

It came out a lot sappier then I intended but she seems pleased with my response so I’m not gonna argue.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about Cruz. I know you cared about her.”

She twists the word care, as if she’s never used it before, doesn’t know it’s meaning. Oh God, she thought I was in love with her. Maybe I thought I was, but it was never true.

“Faith, I…. I’m not upset she died. In truth I didn’t feel anything. I watched her. The blood pouring from her wounds, and all I thought about was you. She had this, I don’t know. It was like she’d pulled this veil over my eyes. Everything was foggy, I couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.”

She doesn’t respond but I can tell she understands.

“How are your kids doing?” I ask suddenly, ashamed that I’ve just thought of them.

“They’re with my mom. I guess they’re okay. Emily’s pretty mad. I don’t think Charlie understands.”

Her voice trails off and I can tell she’s tired. I don’t want her to leave.

“Maybe you should get some sleep. I’ll take the couch, you can have the bed.” I tell her.

“Okay. We’re okay, aren’t we?” she asks.

“Yeah, we’re gonna be fine.” I say, only wishing I felt as confident as I sounded.

***

I wake feeling strangely refreshed. The warmth from the morning sun flitters across my eyelids. I feel a weight on top of me, something tickling my nose. Opening my eyes I’m met with blonde hair and the very obvious warmth of a female body.

My body reacts instantly. Hardening under her, I try to shift, terrified that she’ll wake and feel it. I can’t recall the evening. Did she go to bed? Did she come out here in the night? Did we fall asleep here?

“Mmmm. Bosco….”

Shit, I think she’s dreaming about me, a pretty erotic dream from the sound of it. I gotta get out of here. We just made amends, not even, we started, there’s still so much further we need to go. I can’t screw that up by letting my hormones take control. Damn it Faith, why couldn’t you have been a man, or at least unattractive.

She wiggles against me, causing my own voice to betray me. I let out a shuddering moan, my body taunt with need. Wrapping my arms around her I turn us sideways in order to give myself enough room to get off the couch. I think a cold shower is in order this morning.

Her shirts come open in the front. I try to avert my eyes; a pale expanse of cleavage, cupped in a white lace bra prevents me from looking anywhere else. I am mesmerized.

Pulling away I look up into her face. Sparkling blue eyes meet my gaze. She’s noticed. She doesn’t seem upset, only curious, and a little amused.

“See something you like Boz?”

I nearly swallow my tongue. Gone is the hurt and angry tone from last night, it’s been replaced something I can only call pure sultry.

“Um, sorry, I just, I’m…. I need to go, um, shower.”

She laughs at my awkwardness, it’s soft, almost musical. I wonder if maybe I’m still dreaming, maybe this is all just some fantasy. God knows I’ve had enough Faith fantasies in my day.

“What’s your hurry?”

Okay, this has got to be a fantasy. And if it is, that means this isn’t Faith. She’s either sleeping peacefully in my bed, or at home with Fred and I imagined last night too. Either way, there’s no reason I shouldn’t indulge myself.

“No hurry,” I say with a smirk.

I figure if I’m wrong, and this is Faith, she’ll get offended and leave. She smiles instead so my earlier notion holds.

Her hand runs the length of my chest, and I’m suddenly very awake. Despite my own reassurances I can’t bring myself to touch her. I want to, I’m dying to, but this is so real.

She takes my hand into her own and places it against the fabric of her bra. What I thought was lace feels incredibly like silk. It only takes me a moment before my hand moves of it’s own accord. Tentative fingers brush against the fabric. Meeting her eyes I allow them the slip beneath, caressing the soft skin hidden within. Taking her nipple between two fingers, I twist. She rewards my efforts with a soft cry.

I want to kiss her. I need to kiss her. She sees my intent and shakes her head. Confused, my brow furrows and I stare at her questioningly.

“Not here, not enough room,” she breathes.

I stand then, intent on bringing her to the bedroom. She stops us in the kitchen. Again my eyes seek hers out. They shine with mischief.

“Here?” I question.

“Mmm, always wanted to try out your table.”

I think my own heart may have just stopped beating. She doesn’t give me time to question. With a force I didn’t know she was capable of she throws me on the table. I’m too stunned to stop her from climbing on top of me, pining me down with her weight. The table groans and from a moment I’m afraid we’re gonna end up on the floor, surrounded by splintered wood.

She finally kisses me, thoroughly, her tongue probing the inside of my mouth. I could drown in Faith and be happy. I begin my own assault, pulling her shirt off, sending buttons flying everywhere. My own shirt is carelessly ripped from my body, landing in a heap on the floor.

She pulls the gray track pants I was wearing unceremoniously from my body, leaving me clad in only my boxers. They soon join the growing pile of clothes. Before I can register what’s happening, a very naked and soft Faith is pressing against me, sending shivers straight to my groin.

I briefly notice the blinds are open. I don’t have time to worry before Faith positions me at her entrance. I guess she’s not really a foreplay kinda girl. She sheaths herself on me and then all rational thought flies from my mind.

***

I wake up alone on the couch. Faith is nowhere to be found. I dash to the bedroom and notice her sleeping peacefully in my bed. Was it a dream? She’s here at least, that’s something I suppose. It was so real. Staring at my shirt, I notice it's intact.

Encounter 2:

I’m not entirely sure how long I’ve spent sitting on the couch, staring at the wall. I keep replaying the entire night, over and over again, in my head. Faith came over, that much I’m sure of. She wouldn’t be here otherwise. We talked, I’m almost positive about that.

I remember her asking for something to sleep in, but the imagine of her undone blouse also occupies my memories. Maybe I’ve gone crazy, or maybe it’s a tumor. Or maybe I’m just a complete and utter jerk.

I hear movement in the next room. She’s awake. I’m not really sure what I’m gonna say when I see her. If last night did happen, she’ll expect something from me. If it didn’t, well lets just say bringing it up isn’t the smartest plan.

She emerges in the living room, looking slightly disheveled. Her hairs a mess, her eyes are red and her skin’s pale. She’s wearing a pair of my boxer shorts and a t-shirt. She’s never looked sexier. I curse myself as the sight of her makes me hard. Yeah, I am a jerk.

“Hey,” she says, her voice almost shy.

“Hey. You sleep alright?” I ask, figuring it’s a safe question.

“Yeah, your bed’s actually pretty comfy,” she laughs.

For a moment the vision of her, naked and writhing beneath me, flashes through my mind. I shift, pulling the blankets across my lap.

“You want some coffee or something?” I ask, sounding incredibly stupid.

“Sure. I can make it. You might poison us if I let you do it.”

She’s joking with me. I’m not sure if it means everything is okay between us, or she’s just covering her discomfort.

She moves into the kitchen, her hips swaying back and forth. I stare longingly after her ass. She moves one hand up to brush away a strand of hair that’s fallen across her face. For a moment, time stops. You know those movies, where the really hot girl comes out, and suddenly she’s moving in slow time, the wind sweeping through her hair. Yup, I know, pathetic, aren’t I?

“Boz? Where do you keep the filters?”

I shake my head, trying to tear my eyes off her backside before she turns around.

“Um, cupboard, above the stove,” I reply, proud that I’ve managed to keep my voice steady.

“You know, while you do that, I think I’m gonna hop in the shower. I’ll be quick,” I tell her, suddenly needing to be anywhere but here.

She nods, still searching for the elusive filters.

As soon as the bathroom door closes, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. I’m harder then I’ve ever been in my life. Cold shower’s not gonna cut it.

I flip on the radio over the toilet, hoping it’ll mask any noise I might make. Guilt rushes through me as I realize I’m standing here, contemplating jerking off in the shower, with my half dressed partner making coffee in my kitchen. Still, better this then walking around with my hat over my crotch all day.

With the music blaring, I strip and turn the water to the hottest setting I can stand. Climbing in the shower I allow the water to wash over me. I close my eyes at the sensation. With one hand I grab a bar of withered soap, with the other, a washcloth that has seen better days. The soap breaks in two as I lather it into the cloth.

My heart rate increases as I become aware of what I’m doing. What if she hears me? What if she comes in for something? I only become more excited with that last thought. Slowly I run my hand across my length, imagining for a moment that it’s Faith’s hand. A blissful moan escapes my lips.

My fingertips dance across my tip, circling until I’m almost sore from the sensation. I cup my balls, feeling their weight, their suppleness.

The washcloth is now forgotten. It falls from my hand, landing in a soft thwack at my feet. I bring my other hand slowly up the inside of my leg, my head falling back as Faith suddenly kneels before me.

“Boz? I couldn’t find the coffee filters, I’m just gonna make instant, that okay…”

I freeze at the sound of her voice, she’s too close. Opening my eyes I see her standing by the door, staring at me through the clear shower curtain. Her mouth’s twisted into a grin and she’s not being shy about checking me out.

“Um, Faith?”

“Well, well, well. So this is what you do in your shower,” she laughs, her voice musical.

Is she flirting with me? She’s sure as hell ogling me. Is this another fantasy? Or maybe last night did happen.

“Faith?”

Okay, now I sound like a complete moron. Stop staring at her, say something to ease the tension, and for god sakes, get your hand off your dick.

I pull my hands to my sides, giving her an even better view. Her eyebrow arches and she wets her lips. I swallow, uncertain what to do.

She makes the decision for me. Her hands grasp the bottom of my t-shirt. She pulls it over her head, revealing a braless Faith. The only time she breaks eye contact is when the material obscures her vision. Next her hands move to the shorts. All my blood rushes south, causing my cock to jump against my abdomen. Faith’s not wearing any underwear either.

I’m transfixed by her movements. The soft sway of her hips as she walks towards the tub. The curve of her breast as it bounces slightly when she steps in beside me. The smooth planes of her stomach, shimmering as the water beads on her skin.

She picks up the fallen cloth, using it to wash my chest. I continue to stare at her, unsure if she’s real. Her hands feel real. The scent of her need makes its way to my nose. She certainly smells real.

Unable to contain myself any longer, I grab her hands, stilling her caresses. Pushing her against the far wall I kiss her thoroughly. Pulling back, I look her in the eye.

“Are you real?” I ask, not wanting her answer but needing it.

“Do I look real?” she counters.

“Last night, did we?”

She turns us then, pushing me against the same wall.

“Do you remember this?” she taunts.

Her tongue darts out, tracing patterns against my chest. I allow my head to fall back, moaning at the intrusion. Oh please, let this be real.

I whimper as she pulls away. Reaching for her, she slides from my hands, her body slick and wet, covered with soap. Before I can catch her she’s on her knees. She takes me in her hand, smiling up at me. I watch as she lowers her perfect mouth towards me. Her tongue darts out, sliding along my base. My eyes close involuntarily.

Faith should be given an award for sucking cock. Never, and I mean –never- has any woman’s mouth felt –this- good. My head falls back, my body arches forward and I start babbling her name.

Her free hand cups my testicles, gently massaging them. She swirls her tongue against me. I can almost make sense of the patterns she draws. I tangle my hands in her hair, clinging to her. She’s the only thing keeping me standing.

With a cry I cum, harder then I ever have before in my life. She milks me for all I’m worth. She shifts back allowing me to sink to the floor. I sit there, stunned and completely drained of energy. Closing my eyes I allow the now lukewarm water to beat down on me.

When I look up, she’s gone. Fear, guilt, disappointment, rejection, and a whole slew of emotions I can’t name run through me.

I stand, turn of the water and step out of the shower. The only clothes lying on the floor are my own. I dry off and dress slowly. Partly because my legs still aren’t working, but mostly because I’m afraid to leave the room. Faith’s out there, the real Faith, the flesh and blood Faith.

Taking a steadying breath, I open the door and make my way to the kitchen. She’s sitting at the table, drinking a coffee. She’s changed, instead of my boxers, she now wears her own clothes. I notice her hair’s dry.

Encounter 3:

She’s staring at me. I think maybe she’s wondering why I keep looking at her.

“Hey,” I say, it was dumb but what else am I supposed to say?

“You alright?” she asks, her concern evident.

“I’m good, um, you want some breakfast or something?”

“Nah, I should get going, I gotta run some errands before work,” she tells me, looking down into her coffee.

She doesn’t make a move to leave and I’m uncertain if she expects me to say something. Right now I don’t really trust myself to say anything.

“Boz? I, um, I just wanted to say, thanks.”

I look up at her in surprise. I’m not sure why she’s thanking me. After everything that happened, I should be the one thanking her.

“You don’t, I mean, thank you. I’m glad you came over. I’m glad we talked, and…” I trail off, not knowing how to express what I’m feeling.

“Me too,” she says.

She looks up from her coffee and smiles. I can’t help the sudden appearance of a grin. We’re gonna be okay, I may be going crazy, but we’re gonna be okay.

“You need a lift or anything?” I ask.

Part of me wants her to say yes, allow me a few more minutes with her. Another part of me wants her to say no, I’m not sure I trust myself to be around her right now.

“Nah, I’m good, I have the truck,” she replies.

She stands to leave, hesitating briefly. Before I can question her, she turns around and closes the distance between us. A wave of confusion washes over me as I try to figure out if this is really happening. My confusion dissipates as she awkwardly wraps her arms around me and gives me a chaste hug.

I return it, and we stay that way for several minutes. Eventually she pulls away and without another word, disappears behind the closed door. Sighing, I sink into the kitchen chair, placing my head on the table. These fantasies are getting out of control. I can’t keep second-guessing everything that happens with her.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting here, but when I look up, it’s time to go to work. Grabbing my bag I leave the apartment without a second glance.

I arrive late, as always. Faith’s already changing by the time I get there. Aside from her, there is no one else in the locker room.

“You’re late,” she points out.

“You too,” I counter.

“Yeah, errands ran a little late,” she tells me.

I nod and quickly avert my eyes as she pulls her shirt over her head. The last thing I need to see is Faith undressing.

I concentrate instead on opening my locker. The combination is instinct now, I don’t even think about it. Pulling out my uniform I hang it on the back of the door and start changing.

I pull my shirt over my head, getting tangled in it in my haste. I’m rushing now, the last thing I need is Swersky coming down on me for being late. I don’t think he really expected me to come back to work so soon. I’m not sure anyone did.

With a grunt I finally manage to free myself from the infuriating piece of fabric. I throw it into my locker, as if by sheer force I can teach it it’s place. My gaze lingers on it for a moment, I’m half expecting it to jump back at me. When I look up Faith’s leaning on the locker adjacent to mine, she’s smiling.

“Sorry, you go ahead, I’ll just be a minute,” I tell her, confused when her smile widens.

“Um, Faith?”

Oh shit, no, please no, not here. I really don’t think I can handle this right now. What the fuck is wrong with me?

“You look like you need a hand,” she tells me, her voice breathy.

She reaches down and begins working on my belt. I’m not sure I can handle much more of this. Despite my protests I do nothing to stop it. It’s not that I want this to happen, but stopping Faith, even some facsimile of Faith, is something I’m not capable of.

She brings her eyes up to meet my gaze, I’m surprised by the lust I see reflected back from their depths. She grins wickedly as she pulls on my zipper. I’m unable to suppress a groan.

“Please, I can't,” I manage to choke out.

“Yes, you can,” she tells me.

With that she pushes me against my locker, effectively trapping me. Her hands splay across my chest, kneading the flesh she finds there.

“You know what I love about you Bosco? You’re so, eager,” she says, cupping me through my boxers.

My mind screams at me that this isn’t real. That I need to stop this, that she isn’t real. I can’t, no matter what I try, every time I open my eyes, she’s still in front of me.

“Faith, please….”

My words are muffled as her lips crush mine. She thrusts her tongue into my mouth, silencing me.

More out of reflex then anything else, I bring my arms up to her sides. I wrap them around her, pulling her tight against me. This is nothing like this morning’s hug. She moans and arches into me.

My hands slip up the back of her shirt, pulling it over her head. It lands on the floor and is soon accompanied by her remaining clothes. She’s managed to free me from my own confines. For a moment it occurs to me that I should feel awkward. Locked in a naked embrace with my partner, in the middle of the locker room.

The thought vanishes from my mind as she takes me in her hand, stroking my length. I want this woman more then I’ve ever wanted anything. And she knows it.

“Faith, please, I need…” I start. She cuts me off with a mind-numbing kiss.

Not liking her response, I spin us so that she is pressed against the locker. She wraps her legs around me, rubbing herself against my hardness. I use our position as an opportunity to balance her, allowing one free hand to seek out her clit.

She bucks up at the intrusion, the sight of her very nearly causing me to cum. Her eyes are wild, her hair falls over her face, obscuring her vision. I use my nose to brush it aside, kissing her jaw line. She moans as I reach her neck, shifting her head to give me better access.

Her skin is salty, underlying with sweetness. I could get lost in the taste of Faith. My lips never leaving her neck, I allow two fingers to push into her. She cries out and fresh moisture coats my hand. Slowly I move in and out of her, all the while circling her clit with my thumb.

It’s my name that escapes her lips as she cums. Not Bosco. Maurice. I briefly wonder if this is what I want. Faith to call me Maurice, to scream out my given name in her pleasure.

I feel her shudder one final time before removing my hand. Bringing my hand up to my lips, I move to taste her. She stops me, pulling my hand towards her. A pink tongue darts out, wrapping itself around my finger. That was my undoing.

With a cry more animal then human, I slam into her. I’m incapable of rational thought right now. I hear her babble, I hear her cry out, but none of it means anything to me. I’m so lost in the sensation of fucking Faith. And we are fucking. I used to think Faith and I could only ever make love, but this, this is raw physical need, nothing more.

The lockers rattle every time she hits them. I’m sure if she were real, her entire back would be covered in bruises. For a moment I feel guilty, worried that I might be hurting her. The emotion doesn’t last long.

Faith’s name escapes my lips as I cum. My knees give way and we both sink to the floor.

“Please don’t leave,” I beg.

“You know I can’t stay,” she replies.

I look up. This is the first time she’s ever spoken afterwards. I’m not sure what that means. Closing my eyes I feel her slip away. It’s nothing physical, I’m not sure I can feel anything right now. It’s more a sense of loss.

When I open my eyes she’s gone. Looking around the room I realize I’m still standing in front of my locker, half dressed.

“You’re gonna be late.”

I look up. Faith’s still standing by her locker, now dressed and ready to go.

“Um, yeah, sorry, I’ll be right there,” I tell her.

She nods before turning and leaving the room. I don’t bothering hurrying. Being late is the least of my problems.

Encounter 4:

Roll call drags on, I’m trying desperately not to fall asleep. God, he just goes on and on. In truth, it isn’t so much Lieu’s monotone description of the week’s latest perp, as it is the mind numbing imaginary sex I just had.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I am indeed going insane. Far as I know, there are really only two solutions. See a shrink, or sleep with Faith. Since the latter wasn’t gonna happen, I made a mental note to make an appointment with the precinct’s councilor.

I could almost see it. “You see, it seems I’ve been having these rather graphic sexual fantasies concerning my partner. No, it’s not abnormal, but I’ve lost the ability to distinguish between her and the fantasy her.” God, they’d probably send me to the psych ward.

It wasn’t until Faith appeared at my side that I realized Lieu had finished speaking.

“You coming?” she asked.

I nod before standing and following her from the room. I can’t help but stare at her ass.

The shift’s long and uneventful. I almost wish it was busy, at least then I’d have something to distract me. As it stands now, I’ve spent most of the afternoon mentally undressing my partner.

“You wanna grab a bite or something,” Faith asks from the drivers seat. There was no way I was gonna drive today.

I’m half tempted to tell her exactly what I want to bite, but I manage to contain myself.

“Um, yeah, sounds good,” I reply, trying to keep my voice from wavering.

Faith decides on take out, which is fine by me, I didn’t really want to be around people right now. Food in hand, we drive to the river, hoping to lay low for a while.

For 8 years now, I’ve spent 8 hours a day next to this woman. Sure, I’ve wanted her, definitely thought about her in less then appropriate ways. But now, now I’m almost afraid to be alone with her.

The silence in the car is uncomfortable. I’m not sure if she notices, but it seems like the air is wrought with tension. I shift in my seat, partly to find a more comfortable position, and partly to ease the pressure from the ragging hard on I’ve had all day.

Faith glances at me from the corner of her eye. I give her a half smile, hoping she won’t question my restlessness.

“You alright?” she asks.

“Fine,” I tell her, forcing my smile wider.

“You sure? You look a little uncomfortable,” she laughs.

Damn it! Wake the fuck up Boscorelli. You are not doing this. Please, not now, no. My entire body becomes rigid as I try and free myself from the fantasy. Faith hasn’t moved from her seat but she’s smiling at me wickedly.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask.

“Doing what?” she questions.

“Look, I get it. I want her. Hell, I fucking love her. Now just leave me the fuck alone!”

Her grin disappears and for a moment I think maybe she’s gonna punish me. I’m instantly afraid.

“Boz? Are you sure you’re alright?”

My eyes widen as I realize that this is real, the Faith next to me is my Faith. Oh God, how much did she hear.

“Sorry, I, I haven’t been sleeping,” I reply, hoping she’ll buy the excuse.

“Who are you talking about?” she questions.

“What? Um, no one, I thought…” I trail off, uncertain how to answer her.

“It’s Cruz, isn’t it? You were in love with her.”

She actually seems upset by this and I think for a moment that maybe, just maybe, she’s jealous.

“No, can we just drop it?” I say.

She nods and abruptly leaves the car. I call myself every name under the sun. She still thinks my feelings for Cruz were more then physical. I can understand why it bothers her, she hated the woman. But what am I supposed to tell her? I can’t very well tell her the truth.

Sighing, I open the door and follow her towards the rivers edge. Before I can take two steps she’s suddenly beside me.

“What are you gonna do Bosco? Tell her you love her? Right, good luck,” she teases.

“Don’t,” I warn.

“Or what, you’ll hurt me, maybe even arrest me? It’s what you’re good at, isn’t it?”

That strikes a cord. I very nearly pull my weapon and shoot her. Instead I grab her roughly by her belt, throwing her against the car.

“I will be free of you,” I vow before pulling her to me, thrusting my tongue in her mouth.

I manage to maneuver us to the back of the car. Pulling open the door, I push her in the backseat. Glancing up, I notice Faith’s form, still leaning over the embankment. She seems frozen in time, unmoving.

She’s forgotten as Faith pulls me on top of her. Her legs wrap around my waist, pressing my cock against her heat.

“You’ve always wanted me back here, haven’t you?” she quips.

My only answer is a throaty growl as I attack her lips with renewed vengeance. She squirms under me, crying out in pleasure.

I’m not careful, her clothes land on the floor of the RMP in a torn heap. I don’t even bother to remove my uniform. My pants hanging around my ankles, I thrust into her, burying myself to the hilt.

She screams, the sound only edging me on. I pound into her, unconcerned with where we are, or her pleas. God, she feels so good, so tight, so wet.

She's become still, almost comatose. I don't think she was expecting me to become the aggressor. I don’t stop. I want to hurt her. Maybe it’ll make her go away.

I’m so close, beyond that even. Despite her pain, I know she’s on the brink. I increase my pace, slamming her further into the seat. I want to cum before she does, I need to. If I don’t, I’m not sure I’ll come back from this.

“You’re not HER!” I cry out as my seed spills into her womb.

Anger flashes within the depths of her eyes, it’s the last sight I see before blackness overwhelms me.

***

“Bosco!” I hear her voice calling to me.

“Oh God, Bosco? Are you okay?”

Opening my eyes I realize I’m in the back of the squad, fully dressed. Faith’s leaning over me, concern and worry etched onto her face.

“Hold on, I’m taking you to Mercy,” she says.

“No!” I manage, finding my voice.

“I’m alright, just a little tired. Must be the sun, or something,” I lie.

“You sure? You look flushed. Did you pass out?” she asks.

“Um, I just got a little dizzy, I’m alright,” I tell her.

She nods but I can tell she doesn’t believe me. She insists on driving us back to the station, ‘suggesting’ I take the rest of the day off. I’m not gonna argue with her, I can’t.  
Encounter 5:

I change slowly, acutely aware of Faith’s presence. She’s been hovering near me since we returned. I’m half tempted to let her take me to the hospital, not because I think they can help me, but because I don’t want her to worry.

“Faith, I’m alright. I gonna go home, get some rest, I’ll be fine,” I tell her.

“You sure? You want me to take the rest of the shift off?” she asks.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” I say, smiling. The last thing I need is Faith following me around all day. God only knows what I’d end up doing. No, I need to be alone, sort out what’s going on with me.

She nods before crossing the distance between us. She places a hand on my arm, her eyes locking with mine. For a moment I tense, uncertain if this is real.

“You’ll call me if you need me?” she asks.

Okay, this is real. God, I really need to stop this before it gets out of hand. Too bad it already is.

“Promise. Oh, and Faith? Thanks,” I reply.

She smiles then, her eyes lighting up. With a final squeeze of my arm, she turns and leaves the room. I’m once again alone. I finish changing and head home, hoping I’ll find solitude there.

My apartments dark but I don’t bother turning on the lights, or opening the blinds. I’m restless and find myself pacing the length of my living room. Up one side, down the other, back and forth. Becoming frustrated, I grab my keys and head out the door.

I’m not sure where I’m going, just driving really, aimlessly around the city. I briefly consider stopping in to see Ma but reject the idea, she can’t help me. Instead I find myself parked back under the bridge. The entire day plays over in my mind. I still can’t figure out what’s wrong with me.

I watch the sun set over the river. The water sparkles, like thousands of tiny diamonds caught in the murky depths. It occurs to me that Faith would love this, the simple beauty of nature, the stillness of it all. And there she is, once again invading my mind. I have to get out of here.

Jumping into my car, I speed away from the scene, my tires squealing behind me. I’m half expecting another fantasy, it has been several hours since the last. I keep expecting to look over into the passenger seat and see Faith sitting there. She never is. Maybe that’s the secret. All I have to do is stay away from Faith. Yeah right, like that’ll last long. I need Faith like I need oxygen.

Shaking my head I turn down a deserted street. It’s an industrial part of town, by the water. Old factories dot the landscape, their presence almost ominous. As I approach the next intersection, light catches my attention. There, in the middle of nowhere, is a gas station, its bright neon sign lighting up the night. Glancing at my gauge, I realize I’m running on empty, so I stop.

“Fill her up,” I tell the attendant.

I wait while he does his thing, staring out the windshield into the night. A knock on my driver side window brings me back to reality.

“Sorry, how much?” I mutter, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“That’ll be $29.50,” he tells me.

I hand him the cash and take my receipt. I stare at it for a moment, the smooth white paper somehow calling to me.

“Wait,” I cry out.

“Yeah?”

“It says here you have a 24-hour car wash?” I ask, pointing to the advertisement on the bottom of the receipt.

“Yep, just around the corner, near the back of the parking lot. It’s self serve,” he explains.

“Thanks,” I respond before pulling away from the pumps and heading towards the car wash.

There are several bays, all set up with brushes, hoses, and soap dispensers. The water and soap are coin operated. I pull into a middle bay, switching off my engine before climbing out.

It takes me a moment to figure out how everything works, but before long I have the water running, and my car rinsed. I’ve just begun soaping her up when I’m blinded by headlights.

A black pickup pulls into the space next to mine. Irritation flashes through me. There are at least a dozen vacant spots, and this jag off wants the one right next to me. I’m about to give the driver a piece of my mind, that is until I realize its Faith.

“Faith? What are you doing here?” I ask, suddenly becoming very suspicious.

“Actually, I was looking for you. I wanted to make sure you were alright,” she tells me.

I arch an eyebrow at her, not quite believing her words. She grins at me before leaning on the front of Fred’s truck. I only just become aware of what she’s wearing.

A low cut white t-shirt clings to her torso, revealing the absence of a bra. Short, cut off jeans ride low on her hips, hugging her curves in all the right places. I realize I’m staring and tear my eyes away. The shrill noise of a buzzer indicates my time has run out. I move over to the machine, thrusting in another quarter.

“I told you I was alright, didn’t I,” I say, my tone far harsher then I intended. “Why are you really here?” I ask.

“You didn’t think I was just gonna go away, did you?” she coos.

Shaking my head, I do my best to ignore her, concentrating instead on washing my car. She moves to stand beside me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You know, there’s something so sensual about a man washing his car,” she purrs.

I swallow hard, trying to will her away, I don’t need this right now. She moves so that she’s now leaning forward on my car. I can’t help but notice the way her jeans cling to her ass. I’m instantly hard.

“Faith,” I say, my tone pleading.

“What? I just thought I’d help,” she says, sounding innocent.

She picks up one of the wet sponges and runs it along the length of my hood. The motion seems almost like a caress. She seems so intent on what she’s doing, I think for a moment she’s forgotten me.

I haven’t forgotten her. I’ve completely stopped what I’m doing and am now staring openly at her. Water soaks her shirt, turning the material translucent. Her breast sway as she moves over the car, her nipples stiff peaks. I can’t stand it anymore.

Dropping the hose, I grab her, turning her around, pinning her against the car. Her body presses into me, soaking us both. Her mouth twists into a grin and before I can stop myself, my lips are on hers, our tongues locked in a battle for dominance.

Wrapping my arms around her, I grab her ass, lifting her onto the hood. She growls her appreciation. Her legs wrap around me and I press myself into her, wanting her to know exactly what she’s doing to me.

She brings her hands to my shirt, pulling it above my head before taking my nipple in her mouth. I use her distraction as an opportunity to do my own exploring. One hand remains in the small of her back, the other I bring around to cup her full breast. I grope at her, twisting her nipple between my thumb and index finger. She cries out, breaking away from me to arch back.

I pull her shirt above her head, revealing her tits. They’re perfect. I lean forward, catching her nipple between my teeth. She hisses, grinding herself against me.

I pull back to gaze at her. She’s quite the vision. Wet, soapy, sprawled on top of my Mustang. I tug at her jeans, pulling them over her hips, tossing them onto the concrete floor. She wasn’t wearing any panties either.

Her scent assaults me and I find myself needing to taste her. Bracing her legs around my shoulders, I lean forward, my tongue snaking out. She bucks up, crying out into the night.

She tastes of darkness, and need, with the slight residual of soap. I don’t let her cum, she’s close, I can tell, but I pull away, wanting to cause her grief, wanting her to know my own misery.

“Bosco, please,” she begs.

I feel powerful, hearing her beg, knowing that I have the same effect on her that she has on me.

“Hold on,” I tell her, my lips tugging up into a smirk.

I move to my own jeans, moaning slightly as I brush over my erection. I don’t completely remove them, just allow them to fall around my ankles. The warm night air caresses my cock and a sense of freedom comes over me.

I reach beside me, grabbing Faith’s discarded sponge. Bringing it up, I squeeze the last remaining bit of water out, onto Faith’s stomach. She squeals as the cold water hits her.

Pulling her forward, across the car, I position myself at her entrance. I tease her, rubbing my tip against her clit, causing her to writhe and moan. I want so much to be inside her, but I also want to torture her, make her beg.

“Please,” she again pleads.

It’s enough for me and I slam into her causing us both to cry out. Her body is slick, causing her to slip and slide against me. I cling to her, holding her steady as I thrust into her.

I’m so close, it’s all I can do to keep from cuming. I’m not ready yet, I need to stretch it out, make it last a little while longer. I know once I cum, she’ll be gone.

“Say it Faith, say it,” I order.

She smirks at me but says nothing. Not that I expected her to, just hoped. I realize the very demand caused her to win. I no longer feel the need to draw this out.

I reach across, grabbing her hand, pulling it towards me. I direct her to my balls. At the touch of her fingers, I cum, collapsing on top of her. She smiles one last time before disappearing.

I stand, completely shaken, dress and climb back into my car. I pull away from the car wash, leaving the water running.

Encounter 6:

I’m not really sure why I’m here. It almost seems a ritual now, it used to be that Bosco came to me, now I go to him. In truth, I’m worried. He hasn’t been himself lately. Not that I’d know what he’s supposed to be like anymore. It’s been so long since we actually knew one another. We’re trying though, or at least, I think we are.

Maybe that’s why I’m here. Maybe I need to know if everything has been for nothing. Need to know if there’s a friendship worth salvaging. One night of tears and exhaustion is not enough, not to really know.

I hesitate once I’ve reached his door. Despite my earlier resolve I somehow feel like I don’t belong here. It’s too soon. Or maybe it’s too late. I can’t tell anymore.

I force myself to knock, knowing if I don’t do it now, I’ll chicken out. I often wonder how this happened. How the simple act of visiting my partner, my friend, became such a daunting task. Before I can find the answer, the door opens, and I find myself staring into his eyes, completely lost for words.

“Faith? What are you doing here?”

He almost seems panicked. I instantly regret coming, I don’t think my presence is welcome.

“I’m sorry, I can go…”

Despite my words I remain where I am, rooted in this spot, everything around me frozen. I watch as he blinks, confusion replacing the look of annoyance he wore only moments before.

“No, it’s alright, um, come in,” he says, moving aside to let me past.

The entire apartment is dark, and silent. I hazard a glance around the room. Everything seems out of place. It’s not obvious, you wouldn’t know it unless you knew where to look. Pictures are turned down. The couch has the look of being slept on.

“Can I get you something?” he asks.

He sounds tired. Looking closer, I realize he looks tired. And drained. I guess I didn’t realize how hard these past few weeks have been for him.

“I’m okay. Thanks though. I, um, just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

His head shoots up at my words, his eyes blazing with some unrecognizable emotion. They hold a feverish glint and suddenly the room seems to shrink in size. I’ve never been afraid of Boz, but I find myself involuntarily stepping back.

In a heartbeat he’s across the room, pushing me against the far wall. I’m so shocked I can’t even form the words to protest. He pins my arms at my sides, effectively trapping me. I’m not a weak woman, but I don’t think I could break free even if I tried.

His lips curl into a perverse grin. My fear mounts tenfold. His fingers dig into my wrists, they’ll undoubtedly leave a bruise.

“Bosco?” I manage to choke out, my tone tight with apprehension.

“You’re never gonna leave me alone. Are you?” he questions. He sounds so foreign, this isn’t the Boz I know.

“Bosco, you’re hurting me,” I respond, trying desperately to muffle a cry.

He tightens his grip until tears form in my eyes, spilling onto my cheeks. The flare in his eyes vanishes suddenly, leaving only murky confusion. He releases me but doesn’t move away.

“How do I know this isn’t some sort of trick?” he asks.

He sounds so much like a small child I have the sudden urge to take him in my arms. I don’t, fear and uncertainty still my instinct.

“Boz? What trick Boz?” I ask instead.

“Faith?” he asks, looking up at me.

He seems to study me for a moment, till I’m not sure if he’s looking at me, or through me.

“Oh gawd Faith, I’m so sorry,” he says, finally pulling back.

He moves deeper into the apartment, sinking onto the couch. He buries his head in his hand. I notice a tremor run through him and realize he’s crying.

“Boz?” I ask, tentatively reaching out my hand to place on his shoulder.

“I thought you were her,” he states.

“Her?” I question, uncertain what he means.

He looks up at me, his eyes red and watery. His expression is filled with guilt, remorse, and something I can’t quantify.

“Boz?” I ask again.

His eyes move to the floor. He doesn’t speak, so I sit next to him, my hand moving to rub his back. He flinches at the contact.

“She’s so real Faith. I can’t tell the difference anymore.”

“Bosco, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s you, but it’s not,” he continues.

The tremors begin anew, but this time I realize he’s laughing. I edge back, suddenly feeling the need to create some distance between us.

“I think it’s happened, I’ve finally lost it,” he laughs, like it’s the best joke in the world.

I don’t find it funny.

“Bosco, what the fuck are you talking about?”

He doesn’t answer me. Instead he stands, moving towards the door. His body still shakes with laughter. Tears form in his eyes, spilling and down his cheeks. He makes no move to hide them.

“You should go. I can’t be trusted right now,” he tells me, his eyes darting about nervously.

“Boz? Please, I just want…..”

“GET OUT! Don’t you get it? I don’t want you here!” he shouts.

I flinch at his words but remain where I am. He moves towards me, grabbing me roughly by the arm. He drags me to the door, tossing me over the threshold like I’m refuse. Unwanted. Unneeded.

The sound of the door slamming causes me to jump. I stare at it, my own tears having long escaped their confines. I leave, never once looking back. I guess it was too late.

~*~*~

I hurt Faith. That one thought runs through my head, over and over again. I couldn’t tell it was her and I –hurt- her. Oh God, what the hell am I supposed to do?

I haven’t moved from the door. I’m afraid if I do, she’ll somehow come back. I can’t see her right now. I’ve come to the realization that I need help. Professional, sitting on a couch, talking about my warped childhood kinda help. I can’t let this go on.

“Well, that was awfully nice of her to visit.”

Damn. Not now, please.

“Go away.”

“What? You think you can scare me off like that? In fact, I might just like it if you hurt me. Although, I kinda think she did too.”

Before I can question what I’m doing, I grab her, throwing her against the wall. She squeals in pleasure, the sound causing my stomach to twist.

“Don’t you –ever- talk about her like that again! You got that. I don’t want you here!”

I realize I’m shouting. For all I know Faith could still be standing on the other side of the door. Still, I don’t lower my voice.

“Right…” she teases, running her hand along my chest.

As much as I want to resist her, my cock jumps to attention. I try to will it away, but it only seems to egg him on. She pulls me against her, rocking against my hardness. Any thought of resistance vanishes from my mind.

“Now, you were saying?” she coos.

My only response is a throaty moan. I lean across, capturing her lips, kissing her for all she’s worth. She mews her appreciation. She breaks away, shoving me back towards the couch. I shake my head, pushing her back against the wall.

“Here,” I tell her, my tone an order.

She groans, wrapping her legs around my waist. I wrap my arm around her, holding her steady. My free hand moves to the buttons on her shirt. I don’t bother undoing them, just pull, causing them to fly across the room. They make soft clicking noises as they hit the floor. The sound is so real, it’s easy to forget.

She arches back, giving me the opportunity to take a nipple in my mouth. I’m surprisingly gentle with her. She wants rough, she’s not going to get it. At least, not right now. I can tell she’s frustrated, and the knowledge makes me feel powerful.

Pulling away from her breast, I lift her up, pushing her skirt to her waist. She isn’t wearing anything underneath. I capture her lips once more as I fumble with my belt. Pulling myself free, I hiss as her hand wraps around me, guiding me to her core.

I don’t give her time to prepare herself, simply push into her, until I’m sure I’ll pass out from the sensation. She rocks herself against me, reminding me of my own need for release.

I begin to pound into her relentlessly. Harder, faster, until mortar falls from the ceiling, covering us in a thin coat of white dust. Her head’s thrown back, her breast bouncing off her chest. Perspiration beads on her forehead, and I have the sudden desire to kiss it away. I don’t though, this Faith doesn’t get tender.

“Yes BOSCO!” she cries as she reaches completion.

I haven’t found my own release yet, it’s building, but always just out of my reach. I know now why. This isn’t the Faith I want.

I pull out, causing her to whimper slightly. Her eyebrow arches skyward, and she gives me a look to freeze steel.

“What the hell are you doing?” she questions.

“Fighting,” I reply.

For a moment I think she might intend to hurt me, but then, she’s gone. I make my way back to the couch, pulling out the phonebook, flipping through the pages until I find what I’m looking for.

Psychiatrists

Encounter 7:

There’s something so, disturbing, about sitting in a shrink’s waiting room. There are several other people in the room, all seemingly normal. Seemingly being the operative word. I’m still not convinced this is a good idea, unfortunately I’ve run out of options.

“Mr. Boscorelli?”

“Yeah?”

“Dr. Schneider will see you now.”

“Um, okay, thanks,” I reply.

I rise from my seat, my eyes darting about the room. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, but when I glance at them, they seem to pay me no mind. Maybe it’s part of it, maybe I really am crazy.

“Right this way.”

The receptionist is young, in her early 20’s. She’s pretty, attractive even. Her shy smile is meant to put me at ease, it only makes me more nervous. She leads me down the hall, into one of the offices.

“He’ll be right with you,” she tells me before leaving.

The room is large, oak panels line the walls, the floor, bare, with the exception of an area rug. It’s hues blend together into some semblance of a pattern. I can’t quite make it out. A large desk sits in front of the bay window, two chairs in front. Of to the side, a leather chair sits next to a couch. It seems such a stereotypical room. This is what a shrinks office is supposed to look like. I’m strangely disappointed.

“Mr. Boscorelli?”

I turn and get my first look at the good doctor. He’s older, easily into his 50’s. His build is slight, but strong. He has an oddly comfortable air about him. For some reason I was expecting a beard. His face is smooth, his hair receding. If I were to pass him on the street, I wouldn’t have looked twice.

“Yeah,” I tell him.

He motions towards one of the chairs by his desk. I hazard a glance at the couch, relieved that I wasn’t asked to sit there.

He doesn’t say anything once I’ve sat, simply stares at me with unblinking eyes. The room becomes heavy with silence. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say.

“Look, this was a bad idea…” I finally spit out, rising from my seat.

“You’re free to go, but I’m still going to charge you for the full session. Wouldn’t it make more sense to stay?”

He has a point. And as much as that bothers me, I know I need this. For Faith.

“Fine,” I reply, sinking back into the chair.

“Do you know why you’re here?” he asks.

The question catches me off guard. Of course I do, I made the appointment. I’m the one with the problem. Moments pass before I realize he’s expecting me to answer him.

~*~*~

Two hours later, and $100 poorer, I leave his office. I told him, everything, and he didn’t judge. If anything, he seemed to understand. He thinks I’m in love with her. Maybe I am, I don’t really know anymore. He told me to tell her, not about the fantasies, but how I feel. Said it was the only way to keep her out of my subconscious. He said a bunch of other stuff I still can’t quite understand.

How am I supposed to tell her? It’s not like it’s something you just say. ‘Hey Faith, how’s it going, oh, by the way, I’m in love with you,’ or maybe ‘Faith, loved the way you handled that perp, in fact, completely in love with you.’

I realize I’m talking to myself, earning some ‘not so pleasant’ looks from the people around me. I push the thought aside. I can’t do it. I just can’t. I’d rather deal with imaginary Faith for the rest of my life then lose the real Faith.

I pull a ticket off my mustang before climbing in. It goes into the glove compartment with the rest of them. Perk of being a cop, never having to pay your tickets. It isn’t until I’ve pulled away from the curve that I notice the figure in my rearview mirror. Fuck!

“So, what did the quack have to say?” she asks.

“Fuck off, you’re not real. You’re in my head. All in my head,” I mutter.

“Really, cause I look pretty real, don’t I? And I feel pretty real, don’t I?” she quips, climbing across the seats to sit next to me.

“All in my head,” I chant.

“Is this in your head?” she asks, running her hand along my thigh, cupping me through my jeans.

The car swerves and I find a deserted alley to pull over in. The last thing I need is to get into an accident.

“Get out!” I order.

“Make me,” she counters, a sly smile breaking out across her face.

It’s broad daylight, traffic on the adjoining street is heavy. I can’t do this now. The problem is, I only know one way to get rid of her.

“You know what, maybe I want you to stay,” I tell her, smiling back.

She arches her eyebrow but remains quiet. I open the door, stepping out into the alley. A doorway sitting partially ajar catches my attention.

“There,” I say, pointing.

She leaves the car, smirking at me as she walks through the doorway. I follow on her heals. A quick inspection shows an old storage room, empty, deserted, perfect.

“Get undressed,” I tell her, my tone still a command. This is on my terms now.

She seems to be enjoying this, her smile never wavering. She sheds her clothes, slowly, methodically. I watch. I wait until she’s completely nude before removing my own clothes. I don’t take my time, but I don’t rush either. This is a chore, nothing more.

Despite my mind telling me this isn’t Faith, my body thinks it is, leaving me completely aroused. I close the distance between us, running my hand along her thigh, dipping into patch of hair, feeling her wetness. It feels so real, tastes it too.

I can tell she’s become impatient, this Faith likes to be fucked, nothing more. I wonder if subconsciously, this is how I want Faith. I don’t think it is, I’ve dreamed about sweeping Faith off her feet, making love to her, holding her, but never this.

“Over there, against the wall,” I order.

She obeys, pressing herself against the cold, dirty cement. She looks right there, like this place suits her.

I pin her hands to her sides, my actions mirroring the previous nights. Only this time, I don’t have to worry about hurting her. My tongue reaches out, capturing her nipple. She arches into me, a hoarse moan escaping her lips. My hand moves back to her clit, stroking it, pinching it. Her cries mount.

She manages to get an arm free, wrapping her hand around my cock. She moves slowly over it, it’s almost torture. I pull away from her warmth, forcing her hands off me and back to her side. My expression is one of annoyance.

As punishment, I pull her legs around my waist, pressing her further into the wall. Positioning myself at her entrance, I barely give her warning before pushing into her depths. She’s more then ready for me.

The tempo is fast, hectic even. I’m completely reckless as I pound into her. God, she feels so real, so good. I still can’t get over the sensation of fucking her. I think I might just black out from the intensity of it.

Her nails run down my back, leaving welts in their wake. I press further, reaching new depths, new bliss. I cum this time, hard, wanting nothing more then to remain buried in her forever.

I feel her shudder, her own completion causing her walls to throb, milking me for all I’m worth. I allow us to fall to the floor, my own legs too weak to support us.

Once she’s gone, I make my decision. Tonight, I tell Faith.

Encounter 8:

I hadn’t anticipated coming here. I knew I’d made the decision to tell her, I guess I just thought it would take me a while to gather my courage. I think I just want this whole thing to be over with. I want my life back. I want to be able to talk to Faith, work with her. I hate what I’ve become, what I’m capable of.

Her building comes into view and I slow, seeking out a parking space. I find one, about a block away. Good, it’ll give me time to figure out what I’m going to say. My hands are shaking as I open the car door, stepping out onto the street. As I approach the stairs to her building, I’m suddenly glad she doesn’t have a buzzer. I don’t think I want her to know I’m here. Not yet anyway.

Her hallway seems to stretch on forever, yet I feel as though the distance has shrunk. Before I know it, I’m standing at her door, my hand poised to knock. A strange sense of calm washes over me. This is right. Somehow, I know that. This is the key to my freedom.

My knock sounds hollow and I begin to doubt anyone’s even home. Movement on the other side of the door tells me I’m wrong. I hear the unmistakable sound of a chain being removed and involuntarily tense. The door opens, revealing her. She’s stunning.

I’ve come to be able to distinguish between the Faith that haunts me and my Faith. My Faith doesn’t wear makeup, or short skirts and tight tops. She looks tired and sad, definitely surprised to see me, and maybe a little apprehensive.

“Hey,” I say, knowing it sounds dumb but not caring.

“Hey,” she replies.

Well, this is a start, we’re speaking to one another at least.

“Can I come in?” I ask, trying to count the number of times I’ve asked that particular question.

She moves aside, allowing me to enter. I brush past her, my skin breaking out in goosebumps at her nearness. I hear her close the door behind me, refastening the chain.

“Are you okay?” she asks as she returns to the living room.

“Um, yeah, or, no….I don’t know,” I tell her, the question too much right now.

A look of concern flickers across her face, but she doesn’t comment. Instead she moves to sit, motioning for me to do the same. I sit across from her, still not quite trusting myself to get too close. She notices, and frowns.

“You want to tell me what’s going on with you? Yesterday you pretty much told me to fuck off, and today you show up at my doorstep.”

She’s angry, and hurt. She seems worn, tired. I’m beginning to realize my behavior has affected her, far more then I originally feared. I’m once again at a loss for what to say. Sorry sounds so hollow.

“I haven’t been my self lately,” I say instead.

“So I’ve noticed,” she replies.

I glance across at her then. Taking in her stance, her features. She thinks I’m pushing her away again. And I am. But not for the reasons she thinks.

“I saw a shrink today,” I confess, not meaning to.

Her anger fades to worry. She looks at me then, actually looks at me, like she’s trying to solve some puzzle. I don’t know whether to be relieved or worried.

“Boz, what’s going on?” she asks.

“I think I kept something to myself, so long that it started making me crazy,” I explain. “I haven’t meant to push you away Faith. I need you, I don’t think I’m me without you.”

She softens at this and gives me a reassuring smile. Her eyes tell me to continue, that anything I say will be alright. She won’t leave, I’ll always have her. Problem is, I’m not certain she realizes what she’s agreeing to.

I stand, pacing the length of the room. I feel caged, uncomfortable. This wasn’t this hard when I rehearsed on the ride over. Fantasy Faith wouldn’t make me explain. She’d just jump me, fuck my brains out. I sometimes wish my Faith were that simple. Although if she was, she wouldn’t be my Faith. Sighing, I turn to face her.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

That’s all I say, no grand speech, no flowery poetry, just the truth. She stares at me, her eyes wide. I can’t tell if she’s frightened, shocked or repulsed. I feel the sudden need to leave.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’ll go,” I say, moving to the door.

I’m half hoping she’ll stop me. Tell me she feels the same. Should’ve known that wasn’t going to happen. I close the door behind me, fighting desperately not to cry. It’s ridiculous, I know. Crying over someone I never had. Problem is, I think I royally screwed up. I may have lost fantasy Faith, but now, I’ve lost my Faith as well.

I go home, not wanting to be anywhere else. I’m hoping she’ll call. Not that it’s likely. Once inside, I draw the blinds, blocking out the street lamp, bathing the room in darkness. Shedding my coat, I move to the couch.

“I told you she’d never want you.”

My stomach tenses, and I begin to question whether or not a person can be convicted for murdering an apparition.

“Please leave me alone.”

“Why? You’re hurt, and lonely. You’d think you might like some company,” she coos.

I turn to face her. I don’t bother brushing aside my tears. She did this to me. She should be the one to pay.

“I don’t care. You want me to fuck you? You want me to ride you until you’re screaming my name? Fine. I don’t fucking care anymore,” I scream.

She sways towards me, running her hand along the inside of my thigh. I reach out, roughly grabbing her breast. She purrs her appreciation. Her hands move to the front of my jeans, caressing me through the material. She seems disappointed in not finding me hard.

“She’s really gotten to you? Hasn’t she?” she asks, pulling back.

“Sorry, better luck next time huh?” I retort.

She vanishes before me, leaving me alone. Maybe telling Faith did help. My desire for fantasy Faith seems to have vanished. And with it, her power over me. I move to the couch, sinking into the cushions, wondering if the price was worth it.

I don’t bother flipping on the TV. I like the silence. I stare at the ceiling for what seems an eternity. I’m so lost in my thoughts, I barely hear the faint knock. My mind races, and I practically jump from the couch, running to the door.

I pause before opening it. She’s standing there, still looking stunned. Tears shin in her eyes, mirroring my own. Not knowing what else to do, I stand aside, motioning for her to enter.

“You came,” I say.

“You left,” she replies.  
Encounter 9:

She enters the apartment relatively reluctantly. She seems nervous. I close the door behind her, following her into the living room. She looks lost, like she’s suddenly uncertain why she’s here. In truth, I'm not sure I know either.

Awkward silence fills the room, neither of us speaking. I don’t think we know where to begin. Time stretches on until the tension becomes too much. I turn away, moving towards the couch, hoping she’ll follow me.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask.

“No,” she replies.

Sighing, I nod before sitting, glancing at her, my eyes begging her to take her place next to me. She moves slowly, as though caught in a dream, I’m transfixed by her movements. The cushion dips as she sits next to me, hovering on the edge.

The room seems to shrink in size. I’m acutely aware of her presence. She stares at her lap, her holds folded neatly across her knees. My eyes follow the movement of her thumb as she plays with a stray thread on her shirt.

“Did you mean it?” she finally asks, her voice a whisper.

She glances up at me then, her eyes seeking out mine. She tenses as she waits for my reply. I let out a breath before answering.

“Yeah, I did, and I do,” I tell her.

For a moment I’m concerned that it wasn’t the right thing to say. I brace myself for her rejection, prepare myself for the inevitable crushing blow. She only looks startled, and confused. I open my mouth, intent on explaining, but before I can, she’s leaning into me, capturing my lips with hers.

Fantasy Faith didn’t prepare me for kissing my Faith. She’s soft, and warm, and gentle. She tastes of coffee. I’m swept away by it and whimper as she pulls back. I stare at her, completely lost for words. She smiles softly, her tongue darting out to sweep across her lip. I watch the movement, mesmerized.

“Me too,” she says.

I smile then, grin actually. Her own smile widens. Standing, I take her hand, pulling her from the couch. I bring her into my arms, she fits like she was made for me. Her arms wrap around my waist and I find myself getting lost in the deep blue of her eyes.

I lean forward, pressing my lips to hers. She responds, her tongue meeting mine in a battle as old as time. Moments pass, neither of us moving, neither of us speaking. I only pull away when oxygen becomes a necessity.

Words aren’t spoken, we don’t need them. I take her hand, leading her into the bedroom. She comes without hesitation. I pause directly in front of the bed, turning to face her. Her hands seek out my chest, caressing me through my t-shirt. I can’t suppress a groan.

I break away long enough to shed my shirt, watching as she does the same with hers. There’s no awkwardness, no shyness. Every movement is slow, deliberate. I could never fuck my Faith. She deserves so much more then that. I watch as she moves to her jeans, unbuttoning the top, sliding down the zipper. She pushes them over her hips, allowing them to pool softly at her feet.

My own fall to the ground as she reaches behind her, unclasping her bra. My breath catches at my first sight of her. She’s stunning. More so then I ever imagined. I close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around her. She meets me in a kiss, tender in it’s intensity. She mews softly as I break away, leading her to the bed.

“Are you sure about this? Cause I can wait,” I tell her, my words coming out in laboured pants.

She smiles softly, her hands once again seeking out my chest. She pushes me back, climbing on top of me. I arch into her, relishing the feel of her skin next to mine.

“I’m sure,” she replies.

I pull her down, rolling us onto our side. She smiles again, laughing as she lands on my off duty weapon. She pulls it out from under her, tossing it onto our clothes. I cut off her laugh with a kiss, my tongue seeking out hers. I think I could spend eternity kissing Faith and never get tired of it.

Her hands move over my torso, down my thighs. She runs her fingertips across my back, her hands cupping my ass, pulling me to her. I’ve begun my own exploration. I seek out her breasts, feeling the weight of them. She’s so much softer then I imagined. Her nipples have formed taunt peeks, I feel compelled to touch them, brushing my knuckles against them. Taking one between my thumb and index finger, I twist, watching as her face contorts in pleasure.

Her hands have now found the front of my boxers. She rubs me, teasing me until I’m sure I’ll burst. Her, I’m hard for. I leave her breast, tracing a path down her stomach, brushing against the soft cotton of her underwear. Moisture had saturated the material and I grin as a sudden wave of pride washes over me.

She laughs at this, lifting up slightly so I can pull them off, baring her before me. I help her with my own, her eyes widening at her first sight of me. Another grin breaks out on my face. She smirks at my expressing, leaning forward to kiss me.

Her body presses against mine, and she rubs herself against my length. I’m completely lost to the sensation. Nothing could have prepared me for this. Nothing. I feel as though I’m splintering into a thousand pieces. Leaning forward, I nuzzle her neck, trying desperately to cling to some measure of control.

“God Faith, please….”

“Boz…..yes…” she murmurs.

I finally break away, leaning over to the nightstand. It only takes me a moment to find a condom. She takes it from me, tearing into the foil before slowly lowering it over me. The feel of her hands almost undoes me.

I roll her onto her back, positioning myself on top of her. The sight of her, hair splayed across my pillow, etches itself into my memory. Her skin is flushed, her pupils dilated. She’s probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.

I move to press against her entrance, teasing her. Her eyes cross at the sensation. She arches up, meeting me, pressing me further into her depths. My eyes close as I slide into her. I hear her release a breath, sighing as I fill her.

“Faith, please, open you eyes,” I beg, my own eyes fluttering open to stare down at her.

She does and I once again find myself getting lost in their intensity. I want to watch her. I want her to watch me. I press into her, seeking out a rhythm. She babbles my name, until it becomes almost her mantra. I’m almost certain her own name has escaped my lips, several times.

I try desperately to keep my eyes open, but soon sensation overwhelms me and they shut. I hear Faith’s sudden intake of air. She clutches me and I feel her walls tremble, the intensity of it sending me over the edge.

I cry her name as I cum, stars dancing beneath my eyes. She calls out to me, to God, to anyone that will listen, screaming her ecstasy for the world to here. I collapse onto her, rolling us to our side. I remain buried within her, not wanting to sever our connection.

She sighs in contentment, curling further into my embrace. I kiss her forehead, wrapping my arms around her. I’m terrified of letting her go, afraid she’ll disappear. I know she won’t. This is real. It can’t be anything else.

“Wow. That was….”

“Amazing?” I provide.

“Yeah, amazing,” she echoes.

I slowly withdraw from her, pulling away to discard the used condom. Within moments I’m back at her side, pulling her into my embrace. She curls against me, her eyes drifting shut as she falls asleep, a smile settling on her lips. I watch her for a moment before my own exhaustion overwhelms me and I join her in slumber, dreaming of tomorrow and all that it holds.


End file.
